Sunday, September 8, 2013

Trombol is a coastal kampung west of Kuching, past the mouths of the Sibu and Santubong rivers. Beyond it is an extensive sandy beach, much favoured by shorebirds. Here are both wintering species and a local breeding specialty, the Malaysian Plover (Charadrius peronii).

The Malaysian Plover breeds from Vietnam to the Lesser Sundas. Its overall numbers appear to be low (perhaps less than 25,000 birds), and Birdlife International classifies it as Near-Threatened.

On February 27, 2012, my friend Anthony Wong (a shorebird, or wader, devotee) invited me on a trip to the beach - particularly to see the Malaysian Plover, practically a new bird for me (I had only had my first, distant view of one a few weeks earlier, at Sedili Besar in West Malaysia during our MNS excursion to Panti Forest). Anthony's truck made for an excellent photographic blind.

Along for the ride was my grandson Ryan, who not only behaved very well (for being cooped up in the truck with a couple of birders) but even pointed out some birds for us. Of course, digging in the sand with a stick, which he got to do later, was more fun than birding.

The commonest birds on the beach were sandplovers. This late in the season the Lesser Sandplovers (Charadrius mongolus) had largely departed for the north, and all the birds in these photographs, including this one, are Greater Sandplovers (C. leschenaultii).
Many thanks, by the way, to Dave Bakewell, who kindly turned his expert eye to the shorebird identifications in this post before I released it on my unsuspecting readers!

In addition to shape and bill size, breeding-plumage Greaters have a much more restricted chestnut breast band than their smaller cousins.

The breeding-plumage adults are handsome birds indeed.

Here are some more winter-plumage birds. Anthony and I thought they were all Greaters, and Dave, I am glad to say, concurs.

This bird is different (and thanks to Dave for confirming the ID): a Kentish Plover (Charadrius alexandrinus nihonensis). Notice, among other things, the finer bill and the white collar on the hind neck. Nihonensis, which (as its name implies) breeds mostly in Japan, is the wintering form to be expected in East Malaysia.
According to Dave, the chief features that distinguish nihonensis from nominate Kentish Plovers (that is, Charadrius alexandrinus alexandrinus) are:

pale legs

long breast patches, often forming a complete breast band

a greater tendency to show foxy chestnut colouration in females and first year birds

You can see these features in the following photos:

These birds are nihonensis Kentish Plovers in breeding plumage (birds I first misidentified as Malaysian Plovers, so ignore the file names, please!).

Note the nearly complete breast band on this bird.

Notice the amount of rufous coloration on the cheeks of the (presumed) females in these photographs.

This, I believe, is a female in breeding plumage. Again, ignore the file name. Notice the "foxy" reddish, not white, of the superciliary line behind the eye.

These birds, too, are nihonensis Kentish Plovers, with very extensive breast patches.

According to Dave, the chief features that distinguish nihonensis Kentish Plovers from Malaysian Plovers in any plumage are:

larger size

longer, slenderer-looking, sharper bill

'centre of gravity' more central (MPs look as if they're about to tip forward, as they have more 'chest' in front of the legs)

shorter legs (proportionally if not actually)

less 'motley' upperparts (less contrast between feather centres and edges)

Finally, genuine Malaysian Plovers! Notice the shorter superciliary line as compared to the Kentish Plovers, and, particularly, the black collar extending across the mantle, a distinctive feature of breeding male Malaysians. Notice, too, a key field mark in any plumage: the light edging to the mantle feathers and scapulars, giving the bird a distinctive "scaly" appearance (what Dave, in his comments, calls "motley").

This field mark shows up clearly here - compare with the "smooth-backed" Kentish Plovers, above. The breast band is not quite complete in this bird - unlike the male in the next photograph.

These, too, are Malaysians; the upper bird is an adult male, the lower probably a female.

It's almost a relief to move to our last species, a shorebird that it is difficult to mistake for any other: the Terek Sandpiper (Xenus cinereus). The name refers to the Terek River in Russia. Anthony and I almost missed this bird while we were busy with the plovers - Ryan was the one who pointed it out!

Its neat grey plumage, rather short orange legs and long, slightly upturned bill combine to make it one of the most distinctive of sandpipers. There is really nothing else quite like it.

Mind you, at times the bill can be hard to see.

Before we left the beach, I took a last look offshore at the Satang Islands, themselves the subjects of an account I posted here just over a year ago….

and we ended the day by giving Ryan a chance to explore the beach (his way).

Monday, September 2, 2013

On February 22, 2012, Hans Breuer took me for a short hike along the edge of Kubah National Park, near Kuching, to see a local population of Flask-shaped Pitcher Plants (Nepenthes ampullaria).

The attractive little ground pitchers of this plant are, in addition to their usual roles as food generators for the plants, home to a fauna of over 50 species of tiny animals, and nurseries for one of the smallest frogs in the world, Microhyla nepenthicola, a new discovery only described in 2010. I was not to meet the frog until a later trip to Sarawak, so for now we will concentrate on the plants themselves.

Ampullaria is one of the more widespread of the Nepenthes pitcher plants, with a range that extends from Thailand to New Guinea. While most pitcher plants are carnivores, drawing their prey in the water-filled pitchers, this species has largely switched to living off the leaf litter (the fancy word for this is detritivory). The pitchers cluster on the forest floor, opening upward to catch the rain of falling debris from above.

Because ampullaria does most of its food-gathering at ground level, it has comparatively few aerial, or upper, pitchers. We did find some, though.

Among the creatures that, presumably, do not have to worry about falling into an ampullaria pitcher are this female Archduke (Lexias pardalis), above, and an unidentified but colourful beetle or bug, below.

A couple of finds on the way home: a dark-morph Changeable Hawk-Eagle (Nisaetus cirrhatus limnaeetus)…

…and the road-killed corpse of a Blue Malaysian Coral Snake (Calliophis bivirgatus), apparently an uncommon species. This was the first that Hans, a snake enthusiast who moved to Borneo specifically to live among these reptiles, had seen - not the way he wanted to encounter it, though a living one would be a bit more of a risk. Though small (up to 140 cm), these snakes are particularly venomous (their venom glands apparently run a third of their body length) and have, in their time, killed people.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

The rice paddies at Chupak, a "hidden" valley about an hour's drive south of Kuching, have featured before in these postings. Here we are again (on February 21, 2012), this time in the company of my friend Vincent Wong.

Chupak is a highly attractive area, and the birds are easily accessible from the dikes that run between the paddies.

Things are changing here, though. Small combine harvesters have been brought in as part of a pilot project to modernize rice production - with what ecological consequences, it is probably too early to say.

Meanwhile, there is still plenty for Vincent to turn his lenses on:

Cinnamon Bitterns (Ixobrychus cinnamomeus) are a fairly common sight, usually flying, but now and then posing watchfully within camera range.

Snipe are reasonably common, too, and fairly easy to see. Putting a name to them, though, is another matter. The two likely species, Swinhoe's Snipe (Gallinago megala) and Pintail Snipe (G. stenura), are almost impossible to distinguish in the field, and the subtle differences in face pattern among the birds in these photos do not seem to be guides to which species they are.

Without access to something like Vincent's howitzer of a telephoto lens (fitting something like that in hand luggage can get you in trouble at the airline counter!), I find I can better results photographing nearby insects than attempting to get good images of distant birds. Fortunately, Chupak is good for that, too. Giant Carpenter Bees (Xylocopa latipes), for example, make gratifying subjects.

The Great Eggfly (Hypolimnas bolina) is a butterfly with a huge range, from Madagascar in the west to Japan and Polynesia in the east. it is also known as the Common Eggfly, demonstrating, I suppose, that it is possible to be both great and common at the same time.

Females come in a variety of morphs, each mimicking another butterfly. They are also unusual in that they exhibit parental care, guarding the leaves where they have laid their eggs. This one, though, appears to be a male.

The Blue Pansy (Junonia orithya) is a common and attractive butterfly of open country.

I'm pretty hopeless at Skipper identification, but I believe that this may be a Contiguous Swift (Polytremis lubricans).

As you might expect, Chupak is an excellent place to photograph dragonflies, including the abundant (indeed, inescapable) Orthetrum sabina.

Here is a mating pair "in wheel".

Here is another pair "in wheel", this time of a related species, Orthetrum testaceum.

From the paddies Vincent and I moved on to inspect the entrance to the local cave system. The limestone hill country south of Kuching is riddled with caves, including some that are heavily promoted as tourist attractions. This one, apparently under the jurisdiction of the local tourism committee, is far less well-known.

Chupak can get extremely hot as the day progresses, but a blast of cool, moist air from the cave mouth is not only refreshing but has created a miniature local ecosystem.

This is one of those places where I could really use a good botanist! I assume that this is an aroid of some sort?

Any ideas, anyone? Anyway, I thought this was an attractive natural composition.

This plant, with its long, hanging, strap-like leaves, appears to be a fern, but I don't know which one.

This is not normally the sort of photograph that I would show anyone, but the animal disappearing into the bushes at the cave mouth is an interesting one: a Lesser (or Pygmy) Treeshrew (Tupaia minor). Treeshrews are often mistaken for squirrels, and most of them are similarly acted by day, but they actually represent a separate and distinctive mammal order, the Scandentia, confined to Southeast Asia and related to our own order, the Primates (in which they were once included).

The cave mouth was popular with butterflies, including another Great Eggfly (this time, I believe, a female).

We found this Baron (Euthalia aconthea) on the guard rail to the cave entrance, presumably picking up salt from the sweaty hands of previous visitors.

Here is a Dusky Sailor (Neptis omeroda), one of the more distinctive of a large complex of similar-looking, mostly black-and-white nymphalid butterflies.

Sweat, this time taken directly from Vincent's wrist, is an attraction for this bush brown (a species of Mycalesis, though I am not sure which one).

This highly attractive butterfly is a Commander (Moduza procris). Commanders are partial to perching open-winged on stones, as this one is doing. As beautiful as it is, it starts life as a particularly grotesque caterpillar with the odd habit of walling itself off behind a palisade of toxic droppings. Anyway, it was a new butterfly for me.

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Ron and Eileen

I am a Canadian, a wildlife conservationist, naturalist, writer, birder and all-around fortunate fellow. I have been able to make use of my experiences in my books about science, nature and conservation.
I live in Canada, but thanks to my wife Eileen Yen I now spend part of each year in Sarawak, Malaysia.